


Get it off!

by Coalmine301



Series: Whumptober 2020 [7]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Rattatak, Self-Esteem Issues, Whumptpber 2020, post jabiim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coalmine301/pseuds/Coalmine301
Summary: Even after they had been rescued from that place it was hard not to think they were back in that bloodstained room. That all this was just another trick of the mask.Sometimes he could still hear it whispering…
Relationships: Alpha-17 & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Series: Whumptober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908538
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104





	Get it off!

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2020 Whumptober prompt "Please..."/Get it Out  
> Of course, I rephrased it to "Get it Off" instead

Obi-wan was no stranger to darkness. Even as a youngling he had an unfortunate talent of running into darksiders. And if not that 

He’d even slain one of the darksiders. And for a deliciously terrifying moment he felt the rage long buried within him raise its head. Had felt its ichor coil through his veins. 

But he had resisted both the rage and the temptation it came with. Had ignored that delicious, juicy carrot dangling just in front of him. Because he knew and hated the person holding the stick.

Yes, Obi-wan had dealt with darksiders before. He had defeated them all.

The mask was something else entirely.

It coiled around his face in a vile embrace, leaving only his eyes uncovered. Later he will truly wonder if being able to see is such a good thing. The dark fabric ‘s texture was hot and scratchy but that was nothing too bad… on its own.

No , this mask was sith made. And so with every breath darkness seeped in. Through his mouth, his nose, his ears. 

Voices, whispers. A brief tang of iron on his tongue. A sudden yet fleeting scream in his ear.

Neither were real. He knew this. That didn’t mean they didn’t feel like it. 

The mask was cruel, vicious. It knew how to best make him squirm. 

It slid a nonexistent snake down his throat, he was still gagging at the feeling of those cursed scales hours later. It assaulted his eyes with hungry spiders, the arachnids craving the flesh of his soft orbs. Kenobi had dislocated both shoulders trying to wrench free of the restraints and claw them off.

The mask was wicked and frighteningly creative. No two hallucinations were the same. Each one unique in its grotesque nightmarish way.

But every once in a while the mask would grant him a few precious moments of peace. Not much, less than ten minutes, but enough. Obi-wan tried not to relish too much in these quiet moments.

It only made the hallucinations harder to bear.

“We’ll be free, they’re looking for us,” Alpha-17 always said. How the clone could continue to carry such optimism was always beyond him.

“They think we’re dead,” Obi-wan always replied. 

The muscular clone would always huff at that. As if Obi-wan were the one being unreasonable. “Do you really think that beanpole brat of yours is so ready to give up on us? You especially.”

Obi-wan had to admit Alpha had a point with that. He had seen with his own eyes how terribly attached Anakin was. The blonde seemed to form ironclad bonds, attachments, wherever he went. He was even attached to that blue and white astromech for Force’s sake!

And he had seen how far Anakin would go when those he cared about were threatened. Or, Force forbid, harmed. The less said about that one night on Tatooine the better…

(Sometimes Obi-wan wondered if Anakin knew that he knew about that bloody night. Or about his not so secret marriage.)

It had been so long already. Surely Anakin would have found them by now? With how driven the young man could be Obi-wan felt a month was a generous estimate to how long it would take to find them. Especially with the clones’ help.

And yet here he and Alpha remained chained in this accursed castle. Day after pain filled day passed in the ominous dungeons with no end in sight.

Perhaps Anakin truly thought they were dead after all.

_Or perhaps_ , a voice whispered in his mind, a voice he wasn’t sure belonged to the mask or himself. _Perhaps he does not deem you important enough to save._

At first Obi-wan wanted to deny such a thought. Yes, it was a sign of attachment, but at this point he was long beyond caring. He loved Anakin like a brother, had defended him from the Council so many times.

Surely Anakin felt the same… right?

Memories suddenly flashed across his eyes. Memories of Anakin’s enraged face as he accused obi-wan of holding him back. Of not understanding him. Of not loving him. Of failing Qui-gon’s teachings. 

“Qui-gon should have trained me! If only you died on that day instead.”  
And Obi-wan couldn’t argue back at that. It was true, after all.

Perhaps he and Alpha had simply been abandoned to die here. Anakin had always deserved a capable master, one like Qui-gon. Perhaps Obi-wan’s death could give him the mentor he desrved.

It had been months already. Or was it only a few days? It was getting harder and harder to tell the passage of time. Each day was the same, time blurring until you could never differentiate today from yesterday. 

After so long it was hard to imagine they would be anywhere else. 

Even after they had been rescued from that place it was hard not to think they were back in that bloodstained room. That all this was just another trick of the mask.

Sometimes he could still hear it whispering…

Anakin blinked up at the ceiling in dull confusion. Something had clearly woken him up. Yet his sleep-addled mind just couldn’t place what exactly it was.

A jarring noise tore through the night. A noise his now wide awake mind identified as a scream. Obi-wan’s scream. 

In an instant he was on his feet with his ‘saber drawn. The blonde kicked down the door, ready to attack whatever waited on the other side, coming face to face with … no one. 

The room was exactly as he had last seen it. No, not quite. 

On the bed Obi-wan tossed and turned in his sleep, brows pinched together. Even in the doorway Anakin could see a sheen of sweat across his mentor’s skin. Every once in a while he’d let out a terrified scream, - “Get if off! Get it off! Please, someone get it off!”- the panicked plea turning Anakin’s blood to ice.

But most alarming was how his hands were both covering his face. Short nails clawed at the skin as if trying to tear it off. 

/The mask.../ Anakin realized.

He’d only been told very minimal information about his mentor’s “charming” stay on Rattatak, most of which had come from Alpha-17. But what little he did know he almost wished he didn’t. Of course Obi-wan would be having nightmares about that acursed sith torture device.

“Master!” In an instant Anakin was at his best friend’s side. Unsure of what to do, he pried the older man’s hands from his face and pinned them to the mattress.

Unfortunately that only seemed to disturb the redhead even more. He writhed and twisted in the young Knight’s grasp in a desperate attempt to free himself from a perceived foe. It wouldn't surprise Anakin if those slender wrists were now bruising in his grip.

“Master! Obi-wan, wake up!” No response. If anything the screams only got louder now.

A gentle prod in the Force was only met with waves upon waves of complete and utter terror. Fear strong enough to almost bring Anakin to his knees. 

He’d only rarely seen Obi-wan show fear, let alone outright panic. And for a horrifying moment he wondered just what the mask projected that was terrifying enough to make his brave, unflappable friend panic like this.

Unfortunately he was now left with only one option for waking the terrified redhead. “Forgive me,” he murmured before landing a hefty slap across the Master’s cheek. 

Instantly the redhead fell almost jarringly still. Clouded blue eyes cracked open to take in the darkened bedroom. 

“‘kin?”

Anakin could have cried in relief. “Yes, Obi-wan, I’m here.” And then before Obi-wan could resist the blonde dragged his mentor half upright and wrapped his trembling form in a hug. 

Anakin almost expected Obi-wan to resist, he’d never been too keen on physical affection before. To his surprise the bearded man melted into the embrace, slightly shaking in his arms. It wasn’t long before he felt a wetness against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-wan croaked out in the darkness. “I’m- it was just a nightmare. You don’t have to worry, I’m fine.” 

Of course Anakin could easily sense the lie in his words. And so he simply tightened his grip as the older man tried to pull away.

“No you’re not,” Anakin rebutted, nose buried in the other’s ginger hair. “You’ve just been through something traumatic. It’s ok to not be ok.”

“I should be stronger than this,” Obi-wan half growled out. With how quiet the words muttered against his shoulder were, Anakin wasn’t sure if the statement was truly directed at him or not. Either way he couldn’t not respond.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Obi-wan. You taught me that,” the blonde replied as he rubbed soothing circles in his best friend’s back.

When Anakin had first come to the Temple everything was just so strange and confusing, almost completely different from the harshness of Tatootine. But a lifetime as a slave had taught him to be self-reliant and so he tried to handle things on his own. And so he did what he could. 

Too afraid to admit he was afraid to ask for help, he struggled for a while before anyone noticed. He’d even struggled to bandage the burns from training accidents himself.

It wasn’t until the young man who had taken him under his wing quietly explained he didn’t need to do everything himself. That here he could ask for help. That sometimes he could rely on others to give aid and expect nothing in return.

For a long time Obi-wan didn’t respond. “The others, the men… they’re all relying on me. They need me to be strong for them.” But his voice didn’t seem as certain now.

“You have Cody,” Anakin replied. “He’s a capable man, all of the 212th is. And if anything gets too out of hand I could always step in myself.”

To his surprise Obi-wan outright chuckled at that. “You’d probably just blow something up.” Humor, that was a good sign.

Anakin rolled his eyes at that remark. “Well, if that’s what it takes…” he replied with a half-smirk.

“Ahhhhnakin, the _Negotiator_ is only a couple months old,” Obi-wan retorted. “I’d hate to have to replace it so soon.”

“Well, ‘Negotiator’ is a dumb name anyways.”

“Hey!” 

Anakin chuckled at that as he could practically feel Obi-wan rolling his eyes. A comfortable silence fell between them and Anakin took the opportunity to once again check his mentor over.

He was no longer shaking and his breathing was now at a much less frantic rate. But he was still pale, face buried in the blonde’s shoulder. Despite his insistence, Obi-wan certainly didn’t look the standard definition of “ok” and Anakin doubted he would for a while.

“In all serious, though,” he said in a more earnest tone. “It’s ok to not be ok. You can let us handle things until you’re better. Ok, Obi-wan?”

No response.

“Obi-wan?”

A soft snore alerted Anakin to the fact his friend had fallen asleep in his embrace.

With a short huff of amusement the blonde carefully laid the older man back down, pulling the blanket up to his chin. Even slack with sleep, Obi-wan's face was marked with clear stress lines. Somehow he looked both infinitely old, weary and far too young and naive to have to suffer through this.

Diving into the Force, Anakin quickly wrapped his own Force presence around Obi-wan’s. The redhead desperately needed rest and so Anakin would make sure no more nightmares would plague his battered mind.

Brushing aside ginger hairs, the blonde placed a quick kiss to his forehead. “Sweet dreams, Master.”


End file.
